


send a rose unto a rose

by sincereously



Series: A Dream of Spring Rare Pairs Week 2020 [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23224153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincereously/pseuds/sincereously
Summary: What exactly did a man get for his not-quite-betrothed?The first meeting of Garlan and Leonette.
Relationships: Leonette Fossoway/Garlan Tyrell
Series: A Dream of Spring Rare Pairs Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665037
Kudos: 13





	send a rose unto a rose

**Author's Note:**

> For the A Dream of Spring Rare Pairs Week on Tumblr - day 5, flowers.  
> Also fulfills the asoiafrarepairs prompt ["Garlan x Leonette, canon first meeting"](https://asoiafrarepairs.tumblr.com/post/173338961697/prompt-garlan-x-leonette-canon-first-meeting)

What exactly did a man get for his not-quite-betrothed?

Garlan had known for quite a while that he and Lady Leonette would be wed someday, ever since Father had come out of his study the night before Garlan’s fourteenth nameday and slyly asked Garlan how he liked apples, as there was a fine one just ripe for the plucking. Mother had smiled gently and told him how sweet and lovely Lady Leonette was, and even Grandmother had pronounced that she “wasn’t as empty-headed as most of these twits”. All three of them had agreed that it was a good match, a most suitable pairing, with a lovely young girl (even if Garlan hadn’t been able to find out much more about her than her loveliness). Dozens of ravens flew back and forth between Highgarden and New Barrell, and it was decided that Garlan and Leonette would formally meet and pledge their troth in a fortnight’s time, and that to celebrate the occasion, Garlan would have a beautiful emerald-and-gold necklace to give to his future bride as an engagement present.

Which would have been fine, except that the Fossoways had arrived three days early and the necklace was not yet finished.

“Could you give her a horse instead? I’d want a horse,” Loras had suggested as Garlan paced frantically in his chamber. The Fossoway banners waved just below his window as their knights and retainers entered the castle, making Garlan feel that much more queasy about the whole event.

Willas rubbed his knee thoughtfully. “We have plenty of books that she might like.”

“Does she even like to read? Or ride?” Garlan had run his hand through his hair and distantly remembered that he’d have to comb it before Lady Leonette saw him.

“A flower, then. Tell her that you offer her the fairest rose of Highgarden, the only match for her beauty,” Margaery had declared, with all the imperiousness of Grandmother. It had sent Megga and Alla to giggling.

“Aren’t you the fairest rose of Highgarden, sweet sister?” he had responded, half-smiling. “It hardly seems like you to accept such a demotion.”

“For my dear good-sister’s sake,” she had said, sighing heavily, “I’ll allow it this once.”

And so, Garlan found himself among the roses, winding his way through the twisting paths of trellises. The summer sun gave off a shimmery heat, and the flowers were bursts of yellow and red and orange and pink in the lush greenness of the garden. Garlan had long thought himself immune to the smell of roses, having lived so long with their constant scent, but with each soft gust of wind the sweetness of the roses nearly overpowered him.

Not one of the flowers seemed _right,_ though. Too large, too small, some wilting in the petals, the shade off…but then he saw it. Two yellow blossoms, fair and full, nestled together at the top of a secluded bower overgrown with the climbing roses. It reminded him first of his sigil, but more than that, they looked like they belonged together, each reflecting each other’s perfection. He still couldn’t be sure if Lady Leonette would like them, but maybe…

 _Only if I can reach them,_ Garlan thought. He stretched up onto his toes, carefully holding himself back from the worst of the thorns as he hooked a foot onto a nearby trellis to lift himself higher. Almost there, and he swiftly cut the stem and freed the blooms.

He only had a moment to savor his triumph before he lost his balance and toppled onto his back, wincing as the thorns scraped his face and hands on the way down. Garlan was still trying to get his wind back when he heard a soft, clear voice. 

“Ser?” A slim fair hand appeared just above his head. Garlan gripped it gratefully, coughing as she pulled him back onto his feet.

“Thank you,” he started, but then he stopped abruptly. The slim fair hand apparently belonged to a young woman, maybe his age or a bit younger, with honey-colored hair and a wispy build. Her eyes were bright as she looked him over quizzically, and they widened as he rubbed his hand over the rose badge on his doublet, trying to remove some of the dirt. At the same moment, he recognized the green apples embroidered onto the neckline of her yellow gown and felt like he had been doused in cold water. “My lady…”

“Ser Garlan?” she said, half in disbelief.

 _I haven’t even combed my hair yet,_ he thought absurdly. “Well met, my lady. Do I have the honor of addressing Lady Leonette?”

She quickly composed herself, dipping into a graceful curtsey. “You do, my lord. I have heard a great deal about you, and it is a honor to finally meet.”

He bowed in return. _Can I really tell her that I know a great deal about her? Truthfully?_ “I have a gift for you,” he began again, but then he realized he had dropped the roses. Inwardly he cursed as he scooped up the flowers and cradled them in his hands. At least the flowers had survived their fall unscathed, which is more than could be said for him.

“Fair roses for a fair rose-to-be, my lady,” he said, offering the flowers to her. It was not quite what Margaery had said to say, but Leonette took the flowers all the same. Their hands brushed, and Garlan felt a slight jolt inside him. 

“Thank you, my lord.” She smiled, and it seemed real enough that Garlan let himself relax a little bit. She sniffed the flowers delicately and then looked up to him again, an expression on her face that was half concern and half teasing. “And thank you for braving the thorns on my behalf. Are you all right?”

“I’ve faced far worse enemies than this, my lady,” he replied, shrugging. The sting of the scratches had already mostly faded.

She laughed. _I’ll hear that laugh the rest of my life,_ he thought, and he knew then that he wouldn’t mind that one bit. “The battle of the rosebushes. A most valiant fight. I should make a song for it.”

“You write songs, my lady?” There it was, something he knew about her, something he maybe could build this relationship upon.

“Sometimes,” she replied, tucking the flowers into her pocket. “I’m fond of the high harp.”

“I would love to hear you play,” he said, and he found himself meaning it.

Her smile turned shy, and she smoothed her hands along her skirts. "And I would be pleased to play for you, my lord."

Silence fell upon them, but a moment later Leonette giggled lightly. "Forgive me, my lord," she said, "I suppose I'm still a bit...I mean, I didn't quite expect to meet you this way." She seemed stricken as soon as the words left her mouth. "I mean no offense - "

He chuckled. "I didn't expect to meet this way, either, my lady," he said, "but I'm quite glad that we did."

Leonette's cheeks turned slightly pink, and his own ears went hot.

Garlan cleared his throat. "May I escort you back to the castle, my lady?" he asked, holding out his arm.

She crossed over to him and placed her hand gently into the crook of his elbow. "Of course, my lord. I'm sure we - and our families - will have quite a lot to talk about."

"We have all the time in the world," he murmered as they slowly walked back through the path of the roses.


End file.
